


FE3H Orgies

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Group Sex, M/M, Multi, Orgies, Orgy, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, all of the sex acts, all of them - Freeform, god speed and good luck, i'll add specific characters to the list as i use them, like do i even list specific sex acts?, none of these relationship tags are gonna exist are they?, this is gonna be a wild ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Orgies. Just lots and lots of orgies. Multiple mixes of genders and houses getting involved. No plots. Just bangin'.Chapter 1: Dimitri/Dedue/Felix/Ashe/SylvainChapter 2: Edelgard/Dorothea/Petra/BernadettaChapter 3: Sylvain/Ashe/FelixChapter 4: Sylvain/Ashe/Dimitri/FelixChapter 5: Rodrigue/Manuela/Seteth/JudithChapter 6: Ashe/Judith/Shamir/LadislavaThat's all! I'm stopping here. This was fun to create but I have other projects to focus on. No more updates.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Bernadetta von Varley, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Manuela Casagranda/Seteth, ashe/judith/shamir/ladislava, dimitri/dedue/ashe/felix/sylvain, edelgard/dorothea/petra/bernadetta, rodrigue/seteth/manuela/judith
Comments: 62
Kudos: 191





	1. Dimitri/Dedue/Felix/Ashe/Sylvain

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make a book of orgies. Because group sex. Is. Cool.
> 
> I plan to do gay, lesbian, bi/pan and everything in between. Don't think I can do a strictly "straight" chapter because... orgy...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being king is hard. Dedue concocts a surprise to help Dimitri relax (the surprise is an orgy. It's obviously an orgy. Just... just all five of them going at it... Surprise?)

Being king was hard. Not that Dimitri had believed it would be easy. But this, the constant meetings, the advisers nagging him day and night, the need to choose the right fork so he didn't offend some neighboring territory's duke or ambassador or master of horses: This was hard in ways he couldn't possibly have imagined.

"Your Highness."

He flinched at the title, looking up from the stack of papers before him. Ink smudged his fingers from signing this or that petition. His head felt heavy and fuzzy from reading reports about grain stores and wheel axles and which stable was bringing which horse for which event where he absolutely _had_ to be seen on a superior Gautier horse and not some lesser beast. 

It therefore took Dimitri a moment to blink away the glaze in his eye and find Dedue filling the door to his study. His most loyal and reliable companion looked troubled as he regarded the king. 

"Yes, Dedue? What is it?" Dimitri said. "And call me Dimitri." 

Dedue scowled as though it pained him to address Dimitri less formally. "Dimitri," he grumbled. "I thought you might be in need of a break. I have arranged a bit of entertainment for you, if you'd like."

Dimitri furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of the strange statement. "You arranged..."

Dedue shifted from foot to foot. "Uh, yes, Your-- Dimitri. If you would come with me?"

Was Dedue... nervous? Dimitri stood, more out of curiosity than anything else, and strode across the room to face Dedue. He found the man's cheeks warm; his eyes refused to meet Dimitri's. It was true Dimitri had gone to Dedue more than once since becoming king, seeking comfort and understanding few others could offer. Why, then, was Dedue so uncomfortable and anxious this time? 

"Very well," Dimitri said. 

Dedue nodded and muttered something, then left the room. Dimitri followed him through the castle, greeting servants and advisers and visiting diplomats as they passed in the stone halls. The study was high up, not far from Dimitri's personal quarters, which is exactly where Dedue led him. Dedue rapped a knuckle on the door a couple times before cautiously opening it. 

Conversation bubbled out the moment the door opened. 

"Will you relax? It's why we're here, isn't it?" Sylvain's voice, loud and unmistakable. 

A low grumble answered, a quiet, dangerous snap. Then Ashe's brighter tone cut in, "I think we're meant to wait. There's plenty of time for-- ah! Sylvain!"

"Gods, can you control yourself for five minutes?" This time Felix's bite was loud enough to hear from the hall. 

Dimitri shot Dedue a look. What were Sylvain, Ashe and Felix all doing here? He had hardly seen them since having to take over as king. They all had their own busy lives to get on with. Dedue must have gone to incredible lengths to coordinate all their schedules with Dimitri's. 

Dedue opened the door wider. When Dimitri stepped into his bedchamber, his eye went wide. 

All three former Blue Lions were on his bed. Sylvain was already shirtless and tugging at the buttons on Felix's shirt as the latter rebuked him. Ashe was redoing buttons presumably unfastened by Sylvain. 

They froze when they heard Dimitri and Dedue enter. 

Sylvain recovered first. "Finally," he said. "Now we can actually get this thing started."

Dimitri could only blink. "Excuse me? Thing? What thing?"

Dedue was practically glowing with heat beside him. "I... well... this is not exactly as I arranged it... but I thought..."

Sylvain leapt smoothly off the bed and strode right up to Dimitri, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "We're here for you, bud."

"We're supposed to be," Felix grumbled. 

Ashe just rang his hands and shrugged. 

Before Dimitri could ask what in all the goddess' mercy _that_ meant, Sylvain steered him by the shoulders to a plush chair set right in front of the bed. 

"Just sit there and relax," Sylvain said with a wink. 

"And what exactly will the rest of you do?" Dimitri said.

Sylvain's grin broadened even as Felix's scowl deepened. Ashe and Dedue blushed in tandem. 

"You'll see," Sylvain said. He practically skipped back to the bed. Ashe and Felix's sounds of surprise and protest were drowned out by Sylvain's laughter as he started at the shirts they'd just rebuttoned. 

He stopped after only a few moments, though, encouraging Felix to finish the job. To Dimitri's surprise, Felix complied, crawling over Ashe and pushing him down into the bed as he worked at removing his shirt. Felix was already shirtless, his toned back flexing as he hunched over Ashe. 

Sylvain was smirking back at Dedue. "What are you doing over there still?" he said.

"I..." Dedue said. "Well, I did not want to intrude. I merely made the necessary preparations."

Sylvain was off the bed and swaggering to Dedue. "You're not getting out of this that easy," he said. He slipped a hand behind Dedue's neck, pulling him down into a hungry kiss. From where he sat, Dimitri could see the flick of Sylvain's tongue entering Dedue's mouth. Dedue made a startled noise, his eyes going wide, but he did not pull away. 

Back on the bed, Felix was doing something to Ashe's ear and neck that made the archer yelp and buck upward. Sylvain tugged Dedue toward them, getting him onto the bed so he could climb into Dedue's lap and pull his shirt off. 

Dimitri simply watched, too stunned to do much else. Four of his closest friends and advisers writhed on his bed, wet smacking sounds coming from mouths wandering over bare skin. Sylvain had Dedue's nipple in his mouth. Felix was somewhere near Ashe's hips and threatening to dip lower. 

Despite the absolute mind-bending strangeness of it all, Dimitri felt himself stir. He didn't have space to wonder how or why this was all happening as whines turned to moans, breaths deepened to groans, bodies twisted and entwined. Dimitri's knuckles went white as he gripped the chair's arms.

Sylvain lifted his head just long enough to smile wickedly over at Dimitri. "Stay right there," he said. And Dimitri held absolutely still. 

Sylvain pulled Felix back by the hips the next moment, dragging him into his lap. Felix began to protest, but Sylvain snuck a hand around his waist and into his pants. "Don't you think you've teased Ashe enough?" Sylvain said. "Your turn." 

Felix choked out more snarling remarks, but they crumbled into moans as Sylvain's hand pumped inside his pants. Ashe and Dedue shared a smile before joining in as well. Ashe helped get Felix's spats and pants off, tossing them aside as Dedue moved in to kiss Felix's gasping mouth. 

Dimitri could now see that Felix was fully hard and dripping. It made Dimitri's body want to respond in kind. The arms of the chair creaked as his grip tightened and Dimitri feared the unnatural strength of his crest would shatter the furniture if he had to sit still and watch much longer. 

He must have made some sound of discomfort and strain because everyone but Felix looked over at him. 

Sylvain's smirk was sharp as a scythe. "How are you enjoying the show, Your Highness?" Sylvain said, mockery thick in his syrupy tone. 

Dimitri could only groan in response, incapable of speech. 

"Is there anything in particular we might do for you?" Dedue said. Dimitri had seen Dedue's perfectly chiseled body plenty of times now, but when he asked, when he asked _like that_ , with three other gorgeous bodies ready and eager around him, Dimitri couldn't find breath to respond. 

His gaze moved of its own accord to the discarded spats on the floor. Dimitri quickly looked away, but Sylvain caught him. 

"Felix," Sylvain said, "I think you're a bit underdressed." 

"What the fuck?" Felix growled, his voice mostly a gasp. "Just get on with it. Don't leave me like this." 

"Now, now," Sylvain said. "We promised we wouldn't be hasty. This is for Dimitri, after all." 

"Well then tell me what the fuck he wants," Felix said. 

Ashe had slipped off the bed and was holding up the spats. 

"Come on, seriously?" Felix said. 

Ashe just shrugged. In any other circumstances, he might have looked entirely innocent, but as it was, the gesture had a devious edge to it.

Felix cursed and grumbled as he climbed out of Sylvain's lap and sat on the edge of the bed, tugging the thigh high spats back up his lean legs. 

Meanwhile, the three remaining men returned to their dance. This time, Ashe and Sylvain teamed up on Dedue, pushing the larger man flat onto his back as their mouths roamed all over his body. Dedue's pants flew across the room when Sylvain tossed them away. Ashe shared a smile with Sylvain that dispelled any notion of Ashe having ever been as sweet and innocent as he played at. Then the pair both set to licking up Dedue's cock, one at the base while the other lapped at the tip. 

Dedue's gasp would have been a scream coming from any other throat. He tossed his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as two tongues and two pairs of lips sucked at his cock. Ashe's deft hand cradled Dedue's balls as his mouth kept working. 

Felix returned, his thigh high spats hugging his legs. He managed to get under Ashe and angle Ashe's cock into his mouth as Sylvain used a free hand to stroke Felix back to hardness. Felix groaned around Ashe's cock even as Dedue let out a sharp gasp.

The arms of the chair snapped, splintering in Dimitri's grasp. Shards of wood flew across the room from the force of a crest-enhanced grip. His cock felt like it could tear through the seams of his pants as it begged for release. 

It was Ashe who responded this time, getting his cock out of Felix's mouth so he could slip off the bed. He retrieved a container full of lube and stood right in front of Dimitri with it, naked and flushed and smiling. Dimitri traced the freckles that spilled down his neck and chest and torso. One in particular rested in the dip of his hip bone and Dimitri leaned forward, hungry to taste it. 

Ashe put a finger on Dimitri's lips, nudging him back. 

"Ah ah," Ashe said. "Be good and stay there, OK?"

And somehow that gentle instruction slapped him as sharply as a whip crack, igniting every ounce of Dimitri's blood into an inferno. He heard himself whine, a pathetic, high keen of desperation, but Ashe just smiled his sweet smile and shook his head. 

Then they were all, infuriatingly, back on the bed, out of Dimitri's reach but arrayed before him like a buffet of rare treats, each delicious and addicting in a different way. 

Sylvain had taken the lube from Ashe and was liberally spreading it on his own ass, getting a finger inside himself. He spread the excess on Dedue's cock, biting his lip as he did so. 

"Would you do the honors?" he said. 

Dedue's eyelids fluttered as he blinked in surprise, but he swallowed, recovering himself, and gave a curt nod. Sylvain perched on all fours before Dedue, who rubbed his ass experimentally before sticking a digit inside. Sylvain cooed, pushing back into the pressure, encouraging Dedue to get a second finger inside and massage his tight walls. Sylvain played up his part, making direct eye contact with Dimitri as he moaned and slid his hips back and forth. His tongue flicked out to lick at his lips and Dimitri felt his nails try to carve through his palms.

He attempted to look away, to find some relief, but the moment his eyes left Sylvain they found Felix, already on his back with Ashe's fingers inside him. His legs were up, ankles on Ashe's shoulders, the ridiculous thigh high spats on full display. He shuffled under Sylvain while Ashe continued fingering him and soon had Sylvain's cock stuffed in his mouth. 

Dimitri couldn't contain the groan that creaked from his throat. Goddess, were they trying to kill him? He forced his hands open and found blood on his palms. He grabbed the seat of the chair before he could skewer his own hands. His body felt tight, his cock like glass balanced on a knife point, ready to shatter at a nudge from the barest of breezes.

Then Dedue entered Sylvain and Sylvain's whining moan, fake and overdramatic and ridiculous as it was, made Dimitri whimper in return. Felix was still under him, lapping at his cock, but his mouth became clumsy as Ashe nudged inside him. Felix's gasp was soft, sincere and rapturous, and Dimitri praised the goddess for Felix's utter lack of artifice. 

As Dedue and Ashe found a rhythm, Sylvain and Felix's gasps and groans synchronized. All four seemed locked in some odd, beautiful, filthy dance atop Dimitri's bed, hips rolling and backs arching and hands grasping with desperate hunger. Felix reached up to pump Sylvain's cock even as his legs trembled atop Ashe's shoulders. Sylvain let out a yelp, a genuine one this time. Dedue grabbed his hip, pulling Sylvain back into him. 

"Please," Dimitri whined. He owed himself, owed all of Fodlan, more dignity than that, but at the moment he only cared about releasing the unholy need clawing at him. "Please." 

Dimitri found himself on his feet, standing at the edge of the bed. Even red and gasping, Sylvain managed to smirk at him, keeping himself propped up on one hand as he reached the other toward Dimitri, tugging him forward by his waistband. 

Dimitri kneeled on the bed, bare inches from hands and mouths and rolling, sweating bodies.

"May I?" Dimitri begged.

Sylvain just nodded.

Dimitri nearly tore his pants taking them off. He tried to shuffle forward, but Sylvain stopped him with a hand to his chest. 

"Not... fuck.. not... not yet," he managed. 

Dimitri finally noticed the state of the others. Ashe was hunching forward, his mouth wide in a wordless cry as his thrusts became more desperate. Felix had his ankles locked behind Ashe's head. Dedue pressed his face against Sylvain's back, his arm wrapped around Sylvain's middle. 

Ashe was the first to release, his cry a high, sweet song. Then Dedue--a quiet, long sigh, like years of tension relaxed all at once. Sylvain curled his back and pressed his ass against Dedue as the larger man shuddered against him. 

Ashe and Dedue eased out of their partners, exhausted and panting. But Sylvain and Felix weren't quite done and they turned on Dimitri. 

Their combined gaze was nearly enough to finish Dimitri. He quivered as they crawled toward him, cum leaking down their legs in thin dribbles. 

Sylvain pulled Dimitri forward and threw him onto his back on the bed. Felix sidled up in those gods damned thigh highs Dimitri had never quite understood but praised all the heavens for now. 

"We aren't finished," Sylvain said, low and deadly and thrilling.

Dimitri needed no further encouragement. He took a cock in each hand and began to stroke. He could feel them both twitching right from the start, so achingly close. 

But they hardly returned the favor.

Sylvain smirked; Felix glared. Both ran just one finger at a time up Dimitri's cock, light as a breath along his aching length. Dimitri pumped harder, trying to push them, trying to convey the overwhelming need they'd stoked within him. But neither relented, teasing his head with a touch, running a feather-light touch along his balls. 

"Please," he begged. "Please."

"Do you think it's time?" Sylvain said.

Dimitri could have died during the silence that followed. He might have been looking up at the headman's axe for all the horrific tension of that interminable moment. 

"Yes," Dedue said, "I believe so."

 _Praise the goddess for Dedue,_ Dimitri thought. 

The next moment, Dedue was behind Felix, his fingers slipping inside him. 

"Fuck," Felix hissed. "I thought we were supposed to finish _him._ "

"You require assistance as well," Dedue said simply. 

Felix did not argue further, moaning at the feel of Dedue's fingers inside him even as he bent forward to get Dimtiri's cock in his mouth. 

Ashe did the same for Sylvain, bending him toward Dimitri as he put his fingers in his ass. Sylvain made no protest, joining Felix in lapping at Dimitri's cock. 

Dimitri fell back, his arms trembling too hard to keep him propped up any longer. Felix sucked at his head even as Sylvain licked along the shaft. Someone's hand was cradling his balls, a finger tracing along the tremulous skin. 

It did not take long under the combined attention. Dimitri didn't have time to warn Felix before the world went white and he arched up into his orgasm, shouting at the ceiling as the painfully delayed release struck at long last. 

"Damn it, Dimitri," Felix said, wiping at his mouth. 

Dimitri could do nothing but pant as he lay on the bed, boneless and quivering. 

"I think he should... fuck..." Sylvain gasped. "I think we get to..." 

"Yeah sure," Felix said. "Shit. Oh fuck."

Dedue and Ashe were still pounding their fingers into Felix and Sylvain. The recipients added their own hands, stroking themselves rapidly, frantically, just as desperate for release as Dimitri had been. Sylvain cried out; Felix grunted. They orgasmed nearly in unison, shuddering and shaking. Cum splattered onto Dimitri, splashing up his thighs and onto his shirt. 

Felix stayed on all fours, gasping for breath, while Ashe and Dedue went to find rags. 

"Ah, shit, sorry," Sylvain said. 

Dimitri was still swimming in a warm bath of senseless pleasure. "What?"

"Your shirt," Sylvain said. 

"It's the least he deserves," Felix grumbled. 

Ashe and Dedue returned and they all cleaned up as much as they could. The four conspirators snuggled in around Dimitri. Even Felix allowed himself to be held by Dedue as they all collapsed into quiet breaths and exhausted half-slumber. 

It felt like a dream to Dimitri. If it weren't for the pain in his palms and the shattered bits of chair scattered across the floor, he might not have believed it was real. 

"Dedue," he murmured.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Dedue said.

"Thank you," he said, willing his voice to sound normal. "For the... entertainment."

"You're welcome, Your Highness," Dedue said.

Dimitri could feel himself fading away already, muscles that had been tensed for years finally relenting. "Call me Dimitri," he murmured as warm dreams dragged him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing with Dimitri's crest-enhanced horny grip was way too much fun. Also, I really enjoyed putting Ashe and Dedue in the positions of power for a bit because they've both fucking earned it. I tried not to inject my Ashelix agenda too much, but I am but a simple creature. Seriously though, I really did aim to give everyone equal importance and screen time. Let me know how I did!
> 
> Future plans include:  
> \- Black Eagles women  
> \- Bi/pan with the Golden Deer  
> \- Ashenettelix because I live for that trio 
> 
> Feel free to suggest others but I reserve the right to not write them. 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) if you'd like to chat.
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	2. Dorothea/Edelgard/Petra/Bernadetta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fencing team AU orgy with Dorothea, Edelgard, Petra and Bernadetta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I was so nervous for this one, but also really dedicated to having one where there are ZERO men present. Not one. Not a mention. Not a passing thought. Absolutely absent of men. We need more wlw content in general, but it definitely feels more difficult and tricky to get right. Hope I've done it justice here.

Dorothea let her mask clatter to the floor. Her hair spilled out, a cascade of auburn tresses finally set loose after too long confined. 

She leaned back against the cool linoleum with a weary exhale. Coach Byleth seemed intent on murdering them during fencing practice today. Dorothea had once found the sport easy, almost laughable. But getting drafted for an elite university team changed all that, pitting her against opponents far more skilled than her little high school club had provided. 

The door to the locker room groaned and Dorothea heard tennis shoes clacking across the tiles. Edelgard gave her a wry smile when she saw Dorothea slumped against the wall. 

“Tough practice today,” Edelgard said. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dorothea said. She didn't know what to add. Edelgard was one of the best fencers on the team, elegant, graceful, darting like a dancer up and down the strip. She'd dismantled Dorothea more than once during today's exercises. 

Edelgard tossed her helmet in a locker with a loud clang. Dorothea had to look away when she started unzipping her fencing jacket. Watching the way the zipper glided over the firm swell of her breasts brought a flush to Dorothea's cheeks that had nothing to do with fencing practice. 

“You're pretty good,” Edelgard said. She spoke so plainly, so matter-of-fact, that Dorothea nearly missed it. 

“What?” 

Edelgard faced her. Her fencing jacket yawned open, revealing the black sports bra beneath. The bra strained over Edelgard's chest, forcing a teasing crest of cleavage up above the band. “You're not bad,” she said. “Good footwork.”

Dorothea swallowed. “I used to be a dancer.”

“It shows,” Edelgard said. She shimmied the rest of the way out of her fencing jacket. Despite her ample tits, Edelgard's waist rolled in in a luxurious curve, a smooth arc made for grasping and kissing. Dorothea's eyes slid down the sway of her back, tracing those full, luscious lines, lines like a curl of smoke breathed past opened lips, lines like the coil of a river bending around earthen banks. 

Dorothea nearly screamed when the door to the locker room opened again. Two voices bubbled in, breaking the spell. 

“You are improving rapidly,” Petra said.

“Oh no, I'm just awful. Just awful,” Bernadetta whined. “I'll never be as good as you all.”

“That does not have the ring of truth to it, Bernie,” Petra said. 

When they turned the corner, Bernadetta was blushing, her eyes wide while Petra smirked. They both startled when they spotted Edelgard and Dorothea.

“O-o-oh, I-I thought everyone had gone home,” Bernadetta said.

Petra's eyes roved over the topless Edelgard unabashed. “Yes, indeed. I had thought this as well.”

Petra unzipped her fencing jacket and tossed it aside. She was braless beneath, her perky breasts freely on display. With a few more careless movements, she was fully naked, her uniform on the floor, the soft tuft of hair between her legs exposed. 

She took in the shocked looks of the other three women and laughed. “You Fodlan types,” she mused. “Well, I am going to be showering. If you decide what you'd like, perhaps you shall be following me and having it.” 

Her cool lavender eyes lingered on Bernadetta a moment, then Petra chuckled to herself and stalked off to the showers. 

Bernadetta took a couple faltering steps after Petra before seeming to realize she was even moving. Then she squeaked, clutching her hands at her chest and glowing red. 

Edelgard strode up to her, taking her shoulder. “Why did you stop?” 

“I-I-I-I--” Bernadetta stuttered. 

“You want her,” Edelgard said, her voice warming as it lowered, cutting even as it burned. Bernadetta's cheeks got even redder, somehow. “Go have her, then.” 

She gave Bernadetta a shove. Bernadetta yelped, but once her feet were in motion, she did not stop, continuing toward the showers as though pulled by a leash. 

Edelgard rounded on Dorothea, who stood stunned against the wall. “And you,” Edelgard said. The sting of her voice was a delicious, deadly slap. “Stop staring at my tits. If you mean to do something, then do it.” 

Dorothea swallowed around a thousand, million empty, flaccid words, none of which could have possibly expressed the mixture of horror and heat shuddering through her body in that moment. 

Edelgard's smile was keen as a knife. She swaggered to Dorothea, pushing her against the wall by one shoulder. Dorothea could feel the warmth and weight of those full breasts pressing against her. Edelgard drew herself up on tip toes. Her lips hung a mere whisper from Dorothea's, her soft breaths lapping against Dorothea's mouth like a tide against the shore, a tide threatening to pull her down into fathomless depths where Dorothea would happily drown. 

“Stop being a coward,” Edelgard said, so close each word puffed against Dorothea's lips like waves breaking against rocks. 

Dorothea grabbed her then, yanking Edelgard the rest of the way to her mouth. They crashed together, clumsy and clattering, but Dorothea didn't care. Edelgard's mouth greeted her eagerly, more eagerly than she'd ever dared hope. Dorothea could taste the salt of her sweat, the vaguely sweet taste of her chapstick. The heat of Edelgard's mouth washed over Dorothea, warming her whole body. 

She was panting when Edelgard pulled away. Dorothea couldn't seem to find her breath again; she knew her cheeks were glowing, her mouth a pleading mess. 

Edelgard seemed perfectly composed. She took Dorothea's wrist. “It would be rude to ignore Petra's invitation much longer,” she said. 

It was all Dorothea could do to remember her feet did, in fact, function when Edelgard tugged her along toward the showers. They passed through an open doorway and into a larger space with rows of stalls. Only one shower was running, its curtain thrown wide open. 

“Well,” Petra said, but that was all she could manage. Water poured over her as she stood, her back against the tiles. Bernadetta knelt in the shower itself, soaked and naked, her mouth between Petra's legs. She did not seem to notice Edelgard and Dorothea's arrival until Petra gently pushed her away from her pussy. 

“We have guests,” Petra said.

Bernadetta's head snapped back. Her eyes went wide.

Petra helped her stand. “It would be rude to be leaving them in such a state,” Petra said. 

She brought Bernadetta with her when she stepped out of the shower. Her long purple hair was matted to her toned body. Dorothea had never realized quite how strong Petra was before now. Sure, she seemed fit during their practices, but that didn't tell half the story. Water glistened on the lean muscle of her arms and core and thighs. When she pulled Dorothea forward by her jacket, Dorothea could feel the casual strength of her hands. 

“It would not do for you to be staying in such filthy clothing,” Petra said. Then she started unzipping Dorothea's jacket, tossing it aside before working at the clothing beneath. 

Once Petra had Dorothea stripped from the waist up, her hands roamed to Dorothea's breasts. She leaned forward, sucking at Dorothea's neck as her hands massaged. Dorothea exhaled a sigh. Petra's hands were firm, her fingers deft as they plucked at her nipples. 

Dorothea heard herself whimper when Petra stopped. Beside her, Edelgard was naked and gripping Bernadetta by the hair as they kissed. 

Edelgard smirked at Dorothea when she moved Bernadetta away from her mouth. “Well,” she said. “Still looking at me?” 

“Yes,” Dorothea breathed. It was like a prayer, a wish sent out on the wind searching for safe landing. 

“Why?” 

Edelgard waited, her mouth quirked, her eyes so damnably serene. 

“I want you,” Dorothea said. “All of you.”

Edelgard's eyebrow raised slightly. “Then do something about it.”

Dorothea was moving before deliberate thought could reach her brain. She nearly crashed to the floor, her knees smacking the tiles. If it hurt, she did not notice. She took Edelgard by the hips and yanked her forward. 

Then her mouth was on those firm, round thighs, dancing up and up, her lips pausing to suck at fluttering flesh as she made her way higher. Bernadetta was over her somewhere, her mouth back on Edelgard's from the sound of things. 

Dorothea could feel the heat of Edelgard's pussy before she even reached it. She paused, reverent, a supplicant at the feet of a goddess. Then her tongue ventured out, delicate and deliberate in its exploration. The sweat of Edelgard's exertion during practice made her taste all the sweeter. It was a strong, salty, distinct taste, a flavor Dorothea would burn onto her tongue and her mind and her heart. It was the very essence of the woman above her, the woman tangling her fingers in Dorothea's hair, urging her on, breathing her name in soft response to that hopeful prayer. 

Dorothea used her fingers to part flesh soft as her dreams of this very moment. Her tongue roved deeper, searching for secrets, pressing at the hidden places that elicited gasps from Edelgard. 

Dorothea felt someone's hand on her own cunt. Petra kneeled beside her, rubbing at her pussy with sure fingers. Dorothea moaned against Edelgard as Petra unraveled her, unspooling the aching desire trapped within her for far, far too long. 

Suddenly, Edelgard yanked Dorothea away by her hair. “You like serving me,” she said.

“Yes,” Dorothea gasped, licking her lips to keep Edelgard's taste in her mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you,” Edelgard said.

“Yes,” Dorothea pleaded. 

“I'm going to make you earn it.” 

“Anything,” Dorothea said. Some part of her that was still sane and functioning balked at the pathetic whine in her tone, but fighting felt futile. Dorothea had performed for her entire life. Right now, for this one moment, she shattered every mask, laying herself at Edelgard's feet raw and exposed. 

“Good,” Edelgard said. She looked past Dorothea. 

Dorothea turned. Petra and Bernadetta lay behind her on the tiles, their legs spread wide. 

“Please them,” Edelgard said. 

Dorothea hastened to obey. She crawled on all fours to Petra and Bernadetta. The moment she was within reach, Petra drew her forward, smothering her mouth. Bernadetta groped at Dorothea's breasts as Petra's tongue jabbed into her mouth. Dorothea could hardly breathe for the slew of sensations igniting her body and brain. She returned Petra's kiss eagerly, desperately, so hungry to please just as Edelgard had instructed her to. 

Petra pulled back. Dorothea gasped for breath, even as Bernadetta kept sucking at her nipple. Petra took one of Dorothea's hands, placing two of her fingers in her mouth and sucking on them. Dorothea shuddered from the feel of Petra's tongue gliding over her fingers, getting them slick. 

When Petra took Dorothea's fingers out of her mouth, she moved them down her body. Dorothea needed no instruction; when her fingers found Petra's pussy she started to rub, teasing her clit with slow circles. Petra huffed, but maintained her knowing smile even as she chewed on her lip. 

Meanwhile, Bernadetta ceased her teasing of Dorothea's breasts. She guided Dorothea's other hand down and soon Dorothea had one hand on each of them, mirroring her motions. Bernadetta responded more quickly, and more loudly. The normally reserved woman was yelping with each rub, bucking against Dorothea's hand. 

“P-please,” Bernadetta said. “Put them inside.” 

Dorothea shot a worried look to Petra, knowing she couldn't manage both of them at the same time if things continued this way. But Petra merely grinned and moved away from Dorothea's hand and over Bernadetta's face. Bernadetta eagerly grasped for her hips and buried her tongue in Petra's pussy.

Dorothea slid back. She let her finger glide down Bernadetta's cunt, teasing at her entrance. Bernadetta's entire body shuddered, a leaf shaken by a breeze and barely still clinging to the branch. 

Dorothea's finger pressed into Bernadetta with little resistance and Bernadetta moaned around Petra's pussy. Dorothea added a second finger, aided by the wetness nearly dripping off Bernadetta. Dorothea slid in and out, slowly at first, feeling the tightness of Bernadetta's cunt clamped around her fingers. She curled, pushing, testing; a shiver greeted her efforts and Dorothea pushed harder, curling up into the place deep inside Bernadetta that sent echoing quakes through her body. 

Petra leaned forward, drawing Dorothea's mouth back to hers as she moved her hips over Bernadetta's mouth. Their kisses were sloppy and frantic, punctuated with gasps and pants and moans of “fuck” and “goddess” and “oh yes, yes, please.” 

Then Dorothea felt someone tug her pants down and caress her ass and she nearly froze. She could smell Edelgard close again and her mouth watered at the memory of her taste. Edelgard's fingers grazed her pussy and Dorothea instantly flooded with warmth. Edelgard teased at the slickness around her entrance, devastating in her cool, composed, detached aloofness. 

“You're doing so well,” Edelgard said, her soft voice like flames crawling over Dorothea's naked back. “Do you want a reward?”

“Yes,” Dorothea begged. “Yes, please.”

Dorothea gasped. Something silicon and long and weighty slapped against her ass. She dared not stop pumping at Bernadetta, but she desperately wanted to look back at the dildo Edelgard patted against her pussy. 

“Do you want it?” Edelgard said. “Do you want my whole cock?” 

Dorothea would never know how she found the breath to speak with then. “Goddess, yes, please.”

“Don't forget Bernadetta,” Edelgard said. “You still have work to do.”

She pumped her fingers into Bernadetta, bending forward to add her mouth at Bernadetta's clit. Dorothea heard a wet, sucking noise behind her, then she felt the slicked up dildo against her again, pressing at her entrance but not yet pushing inside. And gods, it was such beautiful torture, such rapturous pain. She whined against Bernadetta, who was rolling her hips into Dorothea's hand, begging nearly as pathetically as Dorothea herself. 

Edelgard angled the dildo and it pushed inside. Dorothea gasped, all the breath stolen from her lungs, as the dildo filled her. Edelgard merely left it there at first and Dorothea felt her body clenching around it, aching for more. She licked more furiously at Bernadetta, her tongue prodding, her fingers pounding. Petra was moaning and rocking above her, her head thrown back as she edged closer to her release. 

Then Edelgard started moving, drawing the dildo out a bit just to push it back in, and Dorothea lost all sense of the rest of the world. Edelgard started slow, building her pace as Dorothea's wetness coated the dildo. It rubbed like flint and steel inside her body, igniting sparks that would soon become an inferno. 

Distantly, she felt Bernadetta shudder against her hand, felt the clench of her orgasm, the sudden coolness of the world as Dorothea's fingers slipped out of Bernadetta coated in slickness. Even more faraway was Petra's throaty cry, her curses and sighs of relief as she arched over Bernadetta.

The only thing left in Dorothea's world was Edelgard's cock inside her. She got her hands under her and started pushing back, rolling her hips in time with Edelgard's thrusts. Edelgard grabbed her hip, pulling her back, thrusting into her with ever greater urgency. Dorothea could feel the vibrations of the dildo as it pulsed inside both of them. 

“Fuck,” Edelgard breathed. It was soft, broken, stripped of authority and power. It was a plea and a prayer, a confession hissed in a rush of breath that rippled over Dorothea's back. 

“Fuck me,” Dorothea responded. 

Edelgard hunched forward, grabbing Dorothea by both hips to pound into her with frantic, greedy hunger. With each movement, Edelgard seemed to reach deeper and Dorothea's whole body squeezed like a guitar string tightening past its breaking point. 

The string finally snapped. 

Dorothea sang out, her cry unfiltered, echoing off the cold linoleum of the locker room. Edelgard quivered against her, her face against Dorothea's back, her long silver hair spilling like lace across Dorothea's clammy skin. 

She didn't think her body could produce even a beat more pleasure, but when Edelgard slid the dildo out of Dorothea, she breathed in, an echo of her orgasm quivering through her, threatening to set her on fire all over again. 

It was only when she was empty that she felt the wetness cooling against her cunt and the shaking of her arms and legs. 

She laid back gratefully on the tiles, looking up at Edelgard, who was easing the dildo out of herself. 

“My,” Petra said. “You did quite well.” 

Dorothea sat up, Bernadetta was curled against Petra's side, delirious, her eyes shut. 

“I don't give up easily,” Dorothea said. 

“I am glad for it,” Petra said with a wry little twist to her lips. 

“As am I,” Edelgard said. 

Dorothea felt her heart leap up into her throat. Edelgard was standing, smiling down at her, the dildo dangling from one hand. 

“Really?” Dorothea said.

Edelgard just chuckled to herself, her smile widening. “I need to clean this up.” She started to walk away. “See you at practice, Arnault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the ideas y'all commented with after the first one! I feel like I have SO much I can do with this collection now. Not sure exactly where I'll go next. Again, can't make any promises about any suggestions, but I'm always open to ideas. 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	3. Ashe/Felix/Sylvain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There isn't even kind of a plot here. They just fuck and it's good. Felix, Ashe, Sylvain. (Mild warning: Sylvain gets kinda wrecked.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for Ratty Wizard for the kiss meme on Twitter. I want to put all my kiss meme stories into a collection, but this one is WAY NSFW so I'm adding it to the orgy collection instead. This has been lightly edited to fix some wording and stuff. The kiss memes were written VERY quickly. 
> 
> Mild warning: Sylvain is dommed and bullied a bit, but he is consenting to it the entire time.

It was one thing to have his ass pounded. It was quite another to be stuffed on both ends, Ashe at his back while Felix gripped his hair and shoved his cock into Sylvain's mouth.

“Too much talking,” Felix had said, and, well, Sylvain couldn't really argue with him there. 

“What a whore,” Felix said, even as he pressed himself nearly to the back of Sylvain's throat. Sylvain moaned around the awful fullness.

“Look, he just accepts it,” Felix said.

“Uh huh,” Ashe gasped, too busy gripping Sylvain's hips and shoving himself deeper to pretend to care about Felix's teasing. 

Was this how Felix was with Ashe? Sylvain couldn't fathom it. He seemed utterly weak to the silver-haired man, saving all his bites and talons for Sylvain, who helplessly accepted. Ashe didn't know what he was missing with all that soft, lovey-dovey shit. This--Felix yanking his hair a little too hard and glaring razors down at him--this was the fuel that set Sylvain's very soul on fire. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, as Ashe somehow got even deeper inside him. The outburst caused Felix's cock to slip out of his mouth. 

Felix crouched, coming face to face with Sylvain while Ashe kept thrusting. “You're as red as your ridiculous hair,” Felix sneered. “You like Ashe's cock that much, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Sylvain breathed between moans. 

“It's so generous of me to let you have it,” Felix said.

“Yeah.” 

Felix tsked. “Filthy.” 

Then he gripped Sylvain by the hair again, smothering his gasps with his mouth. It was like being punched in the face, Sylvain thought. Sucker punched, a swing out of nowhere that sent him careening and skittering off to space. 

Because in all the years he'd known Felix, for all the jabs he'd absorbed, for all the times they'd fucked meaninglessly and mercilessly, never once had Felix kissed him. 

Now, Felix's mouth pressed hot against Sylvain's, each of Ashe's thrusts bumping them closer. Felix's hand tightened, nearly too much, dancing along that tremulous edge that kept Sylvain quivering. He sucked in the scent of Felix all around him, Felix, like the smell of rain before a storm, like the quivering heat that predicted a bolt of lightning, like the tension coiled in a spring painfully compressed and aching to burst.

It all let go now, sudden and shocking and bright as the moon on a cloudless night. Ashe was the starlight, flecks of silver dancing along the edges of Sylvain's bleary vision as he struggled to make sense of the heavens swirling around him. 

Felix jerked away, leaving Sylvain aching. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You really came, just from a kiss?”

Sylvain shook like a leaf in the wind, his body spent and helpless. Ashe eased out him, gentle and concerned now. He and Felix conferred as Sylvain lay prone beneath them, boneless, floating and utterly content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't not fuck with Sylvain. That's a fact.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	4. Sylvain/Ashe/Dimitri/Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri and Ashe really want to fuck, but they need a little guidance from Sylvain to get it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this collection isn't just going to be these four dudes fucking over and over. This was a request.

Ashe yelped. It was just about the most adorable sound Dimitri had ever heard, but he bit his lip, trying to keep that to himself.

“Uh, sorry,” Dimitri said.

“It's-it's OK,” Ashe said. “I just didn't expect you to throw me quite that hard.” 

“I... uh... didn't really expect it either,” Dimitri said. He stood before the bed, crossing his arms over his bare chest, suddenly awkward and trying not to look at Ashe lying shirtless on the blankets where Dimitri had tossed him. 

“Can we stop with the 'sorrys?'” Sylvain said. He crawled onto the bed and toward Ashe. “You're both fine. C'mere, Dimi. You look cold.” 

“I'm not cold...” Dimitri said.

“Will you just shut up and come here?” Sylvain said. 

Dimitri shuffled toward the bed. Sylvain took him by the hand when he got near enough, leading him down, covering his protests with a gentle, coaxing kiss. Dimitri felt the tension ease from his shoulders. He reached, but instead of finding Sylvain, he heard another little yelp as his hand roamed up Ashe's leg. 

Sylvain backed away, smiling now. He turned his attention on Ashe, who shrank back. 

“No need to be shy, Ashe,” he said. 

“I just... I... uh...” Ashe stuttered.

Sylvain pressed a finger to his lips, bending down to kiss up Ashe's neck. Dimitri watched the flush rise in Ashe's cheeks, lovely as the sunrise as Ashe tilted his head back and sighed. Dimitri couldn't stand it. Looking at Ashe rosy and writhing, his lips softly parted as his breaths rasped, Dimitri felt a different sort of tension clench his hands. 

He lunged forward, going for Ashe's hips. He ended up startling Sylvain and Ashe out of their play and nearly tearing Ashe's pants as he tugged at them. 

“Easy there, tiger,” Sylvain said. He helped Dimitri dispense with Ashe's pants. Ashe was looking at Dimitri with a mixture of shock and worry, but Sylvain just tilted his face back toward him and started kissing him again, eliciting noises so sweet and lovely Dimitri's whole chest ached from the sound. 

He dove more carefully this time, getting Ashe's cock in his hand, then his mouth. He had no talent for subtlety, moving right past the playful stage and sliding his lips all the way up and down Ashe's cock, flicking out his tongue, holding the base with a free hand. The noises Ashe made in response were all the more delicious for the swiftness of Dimitri's pounce. 

But once again Sylvain pulled him back, putting a hand on his shoulder to slow him down.

“He's gonna finish too soon if you do that,” Sylvain said. 

This time it was Dimitri whimpering as Sylvain guided him off Ashe's cock. “Don't spoil the fun,” Sylvain said. “You need to get ready too if we're going to do this right.” 

He pushed Dimitri back, then brought his knee up between Dimitri's legs. The pressure made Dimitri suck in a sharp breath. Suddenly, Sylvain seemed to be everywhere, kissing at his neck, flicking a nipple, his knee pressing just right against the bulge in Dimitri's pants. 

Sylvain stopped all too soon. “I think that'll do,” he said. “Ashe?” 

Dimitri searched for Ashe. He was no longer prone on the bed, but sitting up, his fingers awkwardly behind him to—Oh. Dimitri's eyes widened. 

“This is what he wanted, Dimi,” Sylvain said. “It's only polite to honor the request.” 

Sylvain nudged down Dimitri's pants, encouraging him to sit up. When Sylvain pumped his cock, there was something slick coating his hand. Ashe watched the motion, transfixed. He turned around before Sylvain could even ask and Dimitri found himself rubbing a hand over Ashe's ass while Sylvain stroked Dimitri's cock. 

“You two look ready to me,” Sylvain said. Even without looking, Dimitri could hear the grin in his voice. He led Dimitri to Ashe. “Hold on,” Sylvain said when Dimitri went to push his cock against Ashe. “Not so fast. You gotta go easy with this stuff.” 

Sylvain pressed the head of Dimitri's cock against Ashe's entrance. Ashe wiggled his hips and cooed in response. 

“Easy,” Sylvain repeated. Then he moved from Dimitri to Ashe, sitting before him and stroking his hair. 

Dimitri angled his cock at Ashe, nudging gently. Even so, when he pushed inside just a bit Ashe gasped. Dimitri froze, but Sylvain just said, “Go ahead.” 

He pushed in a little farther, getting maybe a third of his cock into Ashe before Ashe made a little whimper that froze Dimitri in place.

“Did I... Is it bad?” Dimitri said. “Did I hurt him?”

“No,” Sylvain said. “He's just getting used to it. Relax,” Sylvain said to Ashe, kissing him. Dimitri could feel the muscles in Ashe's ass relax in response. 

Dimitri nudged in a little farther. Ashe was so tight around him, but yielding at the same time, yielding and warm and so very close. Dimitri didn't even realize how far he'd gotten until he was forced to stop by the feel of Ashe's ass against him. 

Sylvain removed his mouth from Ashe's and Ashe let out a shuddering cry. “Oh goddess,” Ashe said. “Dimitri, you feel so good.” He panted, his head lowering so all Dimitri could see was the swell of his back, flecked with freckles like shells scattered along a stretch of sand. 

“Fuck, you two are hot,” Sylvain said. “You can move, Dimitri, but go easy.” 

“Yes, please,” Ashe said. 

Dimtiri hastened to comply, sliding out just a little before pushing back in. Ashe's voice was like a distant song, a sweet melody ringing out in time with Dimitri's careful movements. Dimitri might have snarled at Sylvain for silencing it by kissing Ashe again, but the sight of two of his friends making out as he plunged into one of them was a different sort of sweetness that made his cock twitch inside Ashe. And Ashe was still cooing and whining and singing, his voice strangled but coming out louder with each thrust. 

The pressure was relenting. Dimitri slid more easily in and out of Ashe and in longer, quicker strokes. He held Ashe by the hips, his vision consumed by that field of freckles like a map laid out and calling for him to follow. It blurred as his eyes squeezed shut, his vision choked off by the pleasure burning within him.

And there was Sylvain again, at his side, a hand on his shoulder. “Not inside,” he said. “Not the first time.” 

And just as the wave crashed down on Dimitri, Sylvain pulled him back, catching his spend in a towel as Dimitri growled at the ceiling. 

When the world returned, it was covered in a fine gauze of ecstasy. Dimitri felt exhausted and empty, yet warm and enveloped. Sylvain kissed him gently. “Good work,” he said. 

“What about Ashe?” Dimitri said. “Did he...” He almost feared the answer. In truth, he'd lost track of Ashe's pleasure as his own overwhelmed him. 

“Oh, don't worry,” Sylvain said. 

Then Dimitri found Ashe, face down on the bed and breathing hard, lying on a wet spot on the sheets and limp as a doll. 

Dimitri crawled to his side, kissing Ashe's shoulder, his back, covering up some of those freckles with his mouth. He stroked Ashe's hair out of his face and was greeted with warm cheeks and a faint, exhausted smile. 

“Well.” 

All three turned, even Ashe, who jerked upright in the bed to do so. And there stood Felix, hands on his hips, sneering at the trio. 

“Quite a state I find you all in, when your attention is needed for actual business,” Felix said. 

Sylvain jumped off the bed, strutting up to Felix heedless of his nakedness. “Don't be jealous.”

“I'm not--” Felix choked on the rest of his words, his cheeks going pink as he ground his teeth.

“It's OK if you are,” Sylvain said. “It was pretty hot.”

“You're insufferable,” Felix snapped.

“And still hard,” Sylvain said. “So, you know, if you _were_ jealous, I'd be happy to help out with that.” 

Felix's eyes went wide even as his mouth compressed to a thin, bloodless line. But he did not leave.

Sylvain smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	5. Rodrigue/Manuela/Seteth/Judith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodrigue is trying to win a war. But even in times of war, everyone needs to relax. If he can remember how...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The older characters deserve to get laid.
> 
> This is for Rodrigue Week!

Rodrigue was tired. Weary down to his very bones. 

There was no Lambert anymore. There was no Dimitri. The continent was in chaos and there was only him. Only him, alone in Fraldarius Keep while his surviving son thew himself into any battle he could find and all of Fodlan raged. 

Rodrigue blinked at the maps beneath his hands. He'd been staring at them for the better part of an hour and seeing absolutely nothing. 

He glanced at the tall windows of the strategy room. Light streamed in, bright and untroubled by the darkness clutching the continent. If only he, too, could be so unburdened for even an hour of any day. But there was no time to set aside his worries in the midst of a war. 

Especially not with the Church of Seiros itself arriving at his door. 

The visit from Seteth was expected, announced in formal letters stamped with wax seals bearing the crest of flames. But it was a surprise to see Manuela accompanying the churchman. 

“She's the best healer in Fodland,” Seteth explained as Rodrigue showed him and Manuela to the strategy room. “In times like these, it's best to travel with someone as skilled as Manuela.” 

“Oh, Seteth, no need to flatter me,” Manuela said. “I would have come along anyway just to get away from that stuffy old monastery for a few days. Not to mention, your company is more enjoyable than you give yourself credit for.”

There was an edge to Manuela's voice, but it was not an unfamiliar one. Rodrigue would have dismissed it save for the way Seteth coughed behind his hand and stumbled a step. 

Rodrigue shook himself. Just his tired, overworked old mind grasping at straws. 

He offered them wine (Seteth refused; Manuela eagerly accepted) and they got down to the business of analyzing the maps and strategies laid out before them.

“I could send more soldiers toward Alliance territory, but I'm simply spread too thin,” Rodrigue explained. “And that's leaving me little opportunity to aid the church's pushes southward.”

“Well, what if you just stopped going east?” Manuela said. She was sitting in the corner, sipping her wine with her legs crossed while Seteth and Rodrigue poured over the maps. 

“Excuse me?” Rodrigue said.

“Oh, does he not know?” She looked to Seteth.

Seteth straightened. “Ah, yes, I suppose he may not. I'm sorry for the late notice, Duke Fraldarius--”

“Please, Seteth, call me--”

“--But we have enlisted some aid from within the Alliance.” Seteth glanced out the window. “And it should be arriving any moment.”

Rodrigue's head pounded faintly. “I'm not sure I understand.”

Just then, there was a knock at the doors to the strategy room. Seteth smiled. Well, he at least attempted to, to the extent a man like Seteth ever smiled. Rodrigue called for the doors to be opened. And in stepped, of all people under Seiros' merciful eye, Judith. 

The Hero of Daphnel.

“Rodrigue, don't look so surprised,” Judith said as she swaggered into the room. “You didn't really think I'd leave you to fight this war alone, did you?”

#

The sunlight melted away. The empty glasses of wine formed a row of delicate soldiers marching across the tabletop, holding down the curling edges of the maps. And still they poured over the best way to divide troops and resources and siege weapons.

Most of them did, anyway. 

Manuela slumped against the table, heedlessly slapping a hand over a map Rodrigue was attempting to scrutinize. 

“Goddess, is this going to go on all night?” 

“It's a strategy meeting,” Seteth snapped. “What did you believe we were coming here for?”

Manuela rolled her eyes, swaying around the table to drape an arm over Seteth, who flushed but crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I _know_ ,” Manuela said. “But I thought we'd have at least a little time for, you know, some fun.” She trailed a finger down Seteth's cheek and the pink in his face deepened to crimson. 

Rodrigue couldn't be imagining it this time. Tired as he was, there was no mistaking the tremble to Seteth's voice, the way he squirmed in Manuela's hold. Even as he told her he was busy—very important work for the war and all that—he did not extricate himself. And it was clear Manuela knew exactly the effect she was having. 

Rodrigue was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He looked to Judith for help, but she was struggling not to laugh behind her hand. 

“If you wish to retire for the evening...” Rodrigue said. 

Manuela looked like a cat with a mouse in her jaws. Her mouth curled. She left Seteth, stepping past him toward Rodrigue. “Oh, now, where would be the fun in that?” She got close enough to trail a finger down Rodrigue's face, letting her nail run along the edge of his lips. Rodrigue could do little more than blink. 

“How long have you been shut up in this big block of stone by yourself, Roddy?” Manuela said. 

Rodrigue swallowed before answering. “Some time.” 

Manuela tsked. “That's a shame. A man like you. Handsome, smart, wealthy. You should have visitors all the time. It's a terrible crime for you to be collecting dust down there.” 

Rodrigue swayed as though knocked off balance by a foe. Dust. Down... down there. On his... Because it wasn't being used for... 

Manuela laughed. Judith joined her an instant later, her mirth bursting around her hand.

“Oh,” Manuela said through tears of laughter, “you boys are just too easy.” 

Rodrigue looked to Seteth for assistance, or at least sanity, but Seteth had his palms flat on the tabletop, head bowed as he struggled to compose himself.

Apparently, he failed.

He jerked up suddenly, grabbing Manuela by the arm, spinning her toward him and smothering her laughter with a kiss so ferocious it left Rodrigue gaping as he watched. He cleared his throat, partially to interrupt them, partially because it felt so constricted he could hardly draw a breath. 

Seteth straightened up as though nothing had happened, brushing off his tunic. “Yes, well, where were we?” 

Manuela was positively giddy, however. “Oh, Setty, in front of all these people! I knew you had it in you.” 

“I was merely trying to get the meeting back on track.”

“If that's what you'd like to call it. But goddess, what a kiss. I haven't seen you like that since the last time we--”

“That will be quite enough, thank you.”

“Oh, I think it's just starting.” 

Manuela tugged at his shirt while Seteth grit his teeth and looked at anything but Manuela. 

“Are … are you two quite finished?” Rodrigue said. “It seems we ought to adjourn for the evening anyway. If there's anything else you require, you can ask any of the servants and they'll fetch it for you.” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Manuela said, waving a finger. “How dare you just shoo us away that easily? We're not done here, right, Judith?”

“Me?” Judith arched an eyebrow. 

“I saw you looking,” Manuela said. “Don't tell me you're as dusty as Rodrigue.” 

Judith crossed her arms. “Hardly.”

“Then what's the problem?” 

Judith cast a glance at Rodrigue, then Seteth, frowning. “I am not generally persuaded by … their type.” 

For once, it was Manuela who looked flustered. 

Judith smirked, stepping around the table and right up to Manuela. “Yeah,” she said. “So if you saw me looking, it was probably at you.” 

“Oh...” Manuela breathed. 

Judith shrugged. “Make of it what you will. I can just as easily retire for the night. It's been a long journey and--”

Manuela grabbed her by the wrist, interrupting her excuses. “No,” she said. “Stay.” 

She stepped closer to Judith. Seteth was stuck behind them, his back against the table, as the two women drew near, Judith's hand sliding along Manuela's jaw as she guided her into a kiss. Seteth went still as a statue. 

For his part, Rodrigue hardly moved either, at least outwardly. Internally, his mind was whirling. This was supposed to be a strategy meeting. There was a _war_ going on. Why in all the heavens were two of his advisors making out while a third watched as though deciding the right moment join in? More importantly, why was _he_ still watching, mouth agape, hands clenched to hide their trembling? 

Manuela and Judith finally broke apart. 

“I've never kissed a woman before,” Manuela said.

“Yeah, well, you're kind of a natural,” Judith said. 

“Is … I want to do that again,” Manuela said, “but … can he join?” She pointed at Seteth.

Judith shrugged. “He's sorta pretty. As long as he's well-behaved.” 

“He will be,” Manuela breathed. 

“I—what?” Seteth said. 

“Please, Setty, don't spoil it,” Manuela said. 

When both women looked to him, Rodrigue could hear his mouth clack shut, teeth grinding back any response he might have offered other than “yes.” 

“It's kind of rude to forget our host,” Judith said.

Manuela blinked. Seteth actually gasped, spinning to face Rodrigue. 

“Duke Fraldarius, I'm so sorry,” Seteth began.

Rodrigue raised a hand. “Its—it's OK. It happens, especially in times of war. If you'd like a room to retire to--”

“Only if you're coming as well,” Judith said. 

Rodrigue felt heat billow up his neck and into his face. 

“I thought you weren't interested in them,” Manuela said. 

Judith shrugged again. “I said 'not generally.' That's not exactly never. And I daresay our fair, pretty duke and churchman here seem like the types who can take direction.” 

“Take … direction.” But even as Rodrigue struggled to make sense of the implications of that statement, his body stirred in a way it hadn't since … goddess, perhaps since before Felix was born, since before his wife died bringing him into the world. Or perhaps since shortly after, when Lambert was still alive...

The two women smirked, sauntering up to Rodrigue with Seteth in tow. Manuela ran a finger down Rodrigue's cheek, sending shivers of sensation through his body. 

“Well, what do you say, Roddy?” Her eyes flickered down a moment. “Can we...”

Rodrigue felt light-headed as she leaned in, her perfume an intoxicating cloud of sweetness. 

“Setty,” she said softly, tugging her partner forward so they both stood before Rodrigue like soldiers awaiting a command. But Rodrigue had no idea what to command, what even to humbly, meekly request. 

Manuela was still stroking his cheek. “Do you prefer him? There were always rumors about you and Lambert.” 

Rodrigue felt his cheeks heat. Goddess, that had been entire _lifetimes_ ago. “I … don't know.” 

Manuela's face fell into an expression of genuine sadness. “Oh, Rodrigue. These Faerghus winters have frozen you to the core. Is it OK if we try to make you feel nice, dear?” 

He found himself nodding, head so light with her perfume muddying his thoughts that the world swayed as he assented. A smile curled her full, red lips. She leaned forward, pressing those lips against his mouth. Rodrigue closed his eyes, filtering the sensations down to just the press of her mouth, but her scent was still all around him, making him feel small and light and woozy. 

She broke away after only a moment. Rodrigue found himself wishing he could chase her mouth as it retreated. Then she put a finger under his chin, turning him toward Seteth.

In truth, it was difficult looking into the besotted eyes of a man who'd always been a pillar of control and proper decorum and righteousness. So Rodrigue didn't. He looked at Seteth's mouth instead, at his softly parted lips and the neatly trimmed beard framing them. 

Seteth's mouth was not as full, not as soft, but pleasant in a dozen other ways. He kissed simply and directly, efficiently, and again Rodrigue felt himself wanting to chase after retreating lips. 

Seteth and Manuela both moved away and for a moment Rodrigue feared they'd leave, feared this was some bizarre, vivid fantasy born of stress and exhaustion. Then they kneeled on the floor before him, looking right up at him with eyes shining with greed. 

Rodrigue was sure he would have toppled right over then if Judith hadn't slipped behind him, sneaking her arms around his chest. Her breath was hot at his neck. She trailed her tongue up the side of neck, then blew on the trail she'd left, making Rodrigue gasp and break out in gooseflesh. 

“Relax, Rodrigue,” she cooed at his ear. 

She stroked a hand along his forehead, encouraging his head to tip back against her. A sigh escaped his throat as Judith continued kissing along his neck. 

He nearly yelped when hands slid up his thighs. 

“Shh,” Judith said. “They're going to take care of you.” 

He swallowed and tried not to protest as he felt Manuela and Seteth's hands sneak beneath his outer layers and start exploring the waistband and laces of his trousers. With Judith keeping his head tilted back, Rodrigue was helpless to stop the pathetic little gasps starting to emerge from his throat. 

Judith's deft fingers got his cloak unclasped. She backed away just enough that it could fall to the floor between them. Then she started working at the buttons down his long tunic, even while Manuela tossed aside the belt at his waist. 

Even with a shirt and trousers still on, he felt horribly exposed when the long tunic was thrown away. There was no hiding how easily they'd aroused him; the evidence was on full display. He tried to look down, to apologize, to wrest back some semblance of order in the situation, but Judith's hands were already under his shirt, trailing up bare skin. Her breasts pressed against his back as she found his nipples and tugged at them. 

His gasp turned into a strangled choking noise when he felt a palm rubbing over the crotch of his pants. He managed to look down, only to find Seteth being directed by Manuela to... Rodrigue gulped, but did not stop Seteth as he got Rodrigue's laces undone, squirming his hand between fabric and closures and underthings until he had Rodrigue in his hand. 

Judith gave a sharp tug, even as Seteth started stroking Rodrigue's cock. He yelped in a way he should have found undignified, but there was little space for such concerns at the moment. 

“Mmm, I think he likes it, Setty,” Manuela said. She was sitting behind Seteth, reaching into his pants to pump him even while he continued stroking Rodrigue. Seteth moaned at Manuela's touch; she nipped at the soft space between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a whimper. 

Rodrigue never thought he'd see Seteth like this, but now that he was, he had to admit, it was a lovely sight. All Seteth's tight control withered away, peeled back in Manuela's expert hands. Rodrigue was sure he looked just as helpless. 

He didn't realize Judith had stepped away until he heard her laugh. She stood to the side, hands on her hips, smirking at the rest of them. 

“Get on the table,” she said. 

“Who?” Manuela said. 

“All of you.” 

Manuela hastened to obey, but Seteth was a little slower. He ran his hand up Rodrigue's cock one more time before standing, meeting Rodrigue eye-to-eye. Neither of them dared speak, but when Seteth tugged at Rodrigue's shirt, Rodrigue followed, followed even when Seteth climbed up onto the table and laid atop maps and strategy notes and troop movements and pulled Rodrigue with him.

Rodrigue pressed down atop Seteth, pushing him against the table by the mouth. Seteth writhed up against him, even as his hand kept working on Rodrigue's cock. Soon, Rodrigue could feel Seteth's hardness against his leg. He brought his knee up and got a whimper in return as he applied gentle pressure. 

“Wow, that's...” 

The breathy utterance drew both men's attention. Manuela was on her back beside Seteth, her dress already gone. She was fondling her own breasts, face flushed from more than just the wine as she gasped for breath. And Judith was between her legs, tongue buried in Manuela's pussy. Judith did something that made Manuela yelp and arch up. Rodrigue felt himself twitch in Seteth's hold at the sight of Judith making Manuela buck and squeeze her own tits. 

Judith came up smirking and licking her lips. She crawled up to Manuela's face, kissing her. Manuela moaned at her own taste. Judith pulled away, sitting atop Manuela to peel her shirt off. Judith's body was more lean and toned and powerful than Manuela's, with scars feathering along her back and arms from the many battles she'd been part of. Rodrigue found himself tracing those scars with his eyes, wondering what they'd taste like. 

Judith seemed to feel him watching. She smirked, standing atop the table to get her pants off. Then she crooked a finger at Rodrigue, beckoning him to her. 

He slipped from Seteth's grasp and crawled to the Hero of Daphnel. She stroked his hair, guiding his head to her pussy. 

Rodrigue needed no further encouragement. He dove in with lips and tongue, licking her sweet folds, tasting her strong musk. He'd nearly forgotten how intoxicating the taste and scent of another person could be, but now it suffused his senses, made him feel drunk and desperate. His clumsy tongue lapped sloppily at her pussy, stupid and simple, yet she didn't seem to mind. Judith hummed in pleasure, stroking his hair back from his face as he worked. 

“You always were diligent,” Judith said. She eased his head away, smiling down at him. 

Suddenly, he noticed the soft, steady moans behind him. When Rodrigue turned to look, he found Seteth on all fours, Manuela behind him, her fingers rocking into him. 

Rodrigue blinked, feeling flushed all over again as he watched Manuela fuck the churchman, as he watched said churchman roll his whole body to meet her fingers, eager for more, whining with desire. 

“I think he's nearly ready for you,” Manuela said.

“For … me,” Rodrigue said. 

She smirked. “Unless you'd rather not.”

“No,” he said, a bit too quickly. “I mean … there is no need … if he is truly so eager.” 

“I am.” It was a breathy rasp, a plea forced between moans. When Rodrigue met Seteth's gaze, he shivered, hot and cold all at once. He hadn't felt this way since … _since Lambert._ Rodrigue hastily set that aside. 

“V-very well,” he said. “But how will I...”

Manuela slammed a bottle onto the table like it was a trophy. Did she seriously come prepared for _this_?

Rodrigue couldn't think straight anymore. He stopped trying. 

Instead, he heeded Manuela's summons. She slicked up her own hand in order to stroke his cock and get it coated in oil. 

“Mmm, not too soon, Roddy,” she said. 

He took a steadying breath. 

“Come along,” she said. “He wants you.” 

The sound of assent Rodrigue attempted to make came out as a whimper. He felt better when he caught sight of Seteth, flushed, lying on his back, legs splayed, biting at a finger. He could not meet Rodrigue's eyes. That was just as well. Rodrigue could not meet Seteth's either. He bowed his head to the task at hand. 

His fingers trembled as he coated them in oil and touched tentatively at Seteth's ass. The man whimpered at even that light touch. He squirmed when Rodrigue grew bolder, circling his rim. 

While Rodrigue explored, Manuela clambered over her partner. He reached for her thighs, eagerly placing her over his face and starting to lap at her pussy. Manuela sighed, rocking atop him. She shot a look at Judith, who needed no further encouragement to scoot near. 

“I'm not quite sure how to do this,” Manuela said as her fingers trailed down to Judith's pussy. 

Judith put her hand over the other woman's. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.” 

She leaned forward, kissing Manuela as she guided her hand to palm at her cunt, rubbing over her clit in rough strokes. 

The display had Rodrigue quivering. He couldn't sit back and watch any longer. He positioned his cock at Seteth's entrance, nudging the head against him, testing that eager and yielding boundary. 

Even with Manuela's pussy in his mouth, Seteth managed to moan. Encouraged, Rodrigue started to push inside. He felt like a boy again, a fumbling virgin, but he managed to nudge his cock into Seteth, who arched to meet him. 

Rodrigue paused there a moment, adjusting to the sensation as much as Seteth was, perhaps more, from the way the man writhed. Manuela was nearly as needy as her partner, moaning around Judith's mouth, her fingers now inside the other woman. Judith reached down to rub Manuela's clit while Seteth kept licking at her. 

Rodrigue had never been one to shirk his duty. Finding himself the only piece of this strange puzzle out of place, he resolved himself to the task, pulling back a little to sway into Seteth. He got a grunt for his effort. Not good enough. Rodrigue rolled his hips, dredging up feelings and skills he'd thought long lost to his younger years. 

Something in Seteth changed. Rodrigue could feel it. Suddenly, the man groaned around Manuela, loud and high. 

“Oh, that's it,” Manuela gasped. “Yeah, just like that.” 

Rodrigue wasn't sure if she was speaking to him, Seteth or Judith, but he continued all the same. Seteth's muffled cries got higher in pitch as Rodrigue pressed into the place inside him that set the churchman trembling. 

Manuela's moans rose nearly to shrieks. Rodrigue could see her thighs quivering over Seteth. Judith pulled her away as her shivering subsided, guiding Manuela over her. 

“Don't leave the job half done,” Judith said. 

Still panting, Manuela brought her mouth to Judith's cunt, licking even while her fingers slipped inside the other woman. Judith arched, encouraging her along.

“That's it,” Judith gasped. “Right there.” 

Watching nearly tipped Rodrigue over the edge, but Seteth whined beneath him, demanding attention. Rodrigue found Seteth watching him through half-lidded eyes glazed over with pleasure; his mouth hung open around breathy exhalations. 

“Finish it,” Seteth said. 

The plea in his voice made Rodrigue stir all over again. He set to the task with renewed vigor. After a single thrust, Seteth was throwing his head back and babbling at the ceiling. After a second, he was rolling his hips to meet Rodrigue, clenching around his cock as though trying to drag him deeper. 

And all the while Judith moaned and writhed mere inches away, her hand knotted in Manuela's hair as she shuddered toward completion. 

It was all too much. Rodrigue squeezed his eyes shut, but still the music of multiple voices moaning in pleasure sang all around him. It was an enticing song, one he hadn't heard in so very long, and he soon lost himself in it. He moved his body, trying to draw out more sweet cries from Seteth, soaking in Judith's throaty moans. Sounds of joy, of surrender, of total and utter release from pressure and stress and fear—the things that had become staples of life during this long time of strife. 

It released all at once. Rodrigue shook as it rattled through him, as his body let go after what seemed entire lifetimes. 

He knew he was trembling, panting, pathetic, but he reached for Seteth, pumping the other man to completion and enjoying the cry of thanks the churchman flung at the ceiling as warmth spurted over Rodrigue's hand. 

By the time Rodrigue could open his eyes again, the room lay still, hushed. 

Seteth had an arm thrown over his eyes. Deep, contended breaths swelled his chest. Rodrigue eased himself out of the other man, but did not go far. In truth, he did not feel able to do much more than sit back with his legs folded under him. Off to the side, Manuela was smiling, wiping the back of her mouth, but drowsy and quiet. Judith still lay on the table, a giddy smile curling her lips. 

“That was quite a meeting,” Manuela said. 

Rodrigue might have bothered noticing the crumpled and stained maps then. He might have felt ashamed or embarrassed. He might have considered himself unworthy of the responsibility heaped on his shoulders after this phenomenal lapse. 

Instead, he simply laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	6. Ashe/Judith/Shamir/Ladislava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's parent-teacher conference night and all the hot teachers are thirsting over Ashe when he comes to hear how his siblings' grades are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a kinkmeme fill. Someone wanted virgin Ashe with older women, so I thought 1) hell yes and 2) why not an orgy?

“Well, Mr. Ubert, the twins are excellent students.”

Ashe heaved a sighed. 

His siblings’ homeroom teacher just smiled at him. “Were you worried, Mr. Ubert? They’re great kids.” 

“No, Jud- I mean, Ms. Daphnel.”

Judith laughed. “Oh, just call me Judith.”

“Well, then, just call me Ashe.”

Her gaze sharpened, the corners of her lips curling in a way that tightened Ashe’s stomach. “Alright, Ashe. Well, Rowan and Fina are both exemplary students. I presume they take after their big brother.”

She had no idea how far that was from the truth. He’d barely finished high school, while they were set to not just graduate but move on to higher education. 

“Is something wrong, Ashe?” 

Judith slid forward on her seat. Her knees, covered in black stockings, nearly touched his. He felt a flush crawl up his neck. These parent-teacher things were always awkward, what with Ashe being so much younger than the teachers. And Ms. Daphnel - _Judith,_ he reminded himself, _she said to call her Judith_ \- was certainly a striking woman. Her skirt strained around full hips and strong thighs that looked like they could crush him. As she leaned forward, Ashe could see a hint of cleavage peaking out of her sweater.

Ashe forced his gaze up to her eyes, gray-blue and piercing, but that only made the heat in his face burn hotter. 

“No,” he finally said. “N-nothing’s wrong.”

She leaned forward even farther, setting a hand on Ashe’s knee. He struggled not to leap out of his chair. 

“You’re doing a fine job, Ashe,” Judith said. “They’re good kids.” 

Something about her breathy tone, that hand squeezing his knee, told him she wasn’t actually talking about his siblings. 

“You know, their history and PE teachers were telling me they’d just love to meet you,” Judith said. “Would you mind?”

“Oh, o-of course not.”

“Great.” 

She stood and he watched the stretch of her pencil skirt over her ass as she walked to the classroom’s phone and dialed. 

Ashe used the reprieve to calm himself. This is was ridiculous. This was his siblings’ _teacher_. He was supposed to be making sure they were keeping up on their homework, not staring down her sweater. 

He shook himself. He was probably just exhausted. It wasn’t easy working two jobs and raising his brother and sister. It didn’t help that he’d never, well, he’d never _been with_ anyone. It wasn’t a matter of interest. There just wasn’t time. He’d been taking care of his siblings for most of his life. 

Judith swayed back to her seat, smoothing her skirt. “They’ll be here in just a moment. In the meantime, do you mind if I ditch this itchy sweater? It’s been a long night and you’re the last parent. I’d love to get out of this thing.”

“Oh, sure, go ahead.” 

He almost instantly regretted his words.

Judith pulled the sweater off over her head. Beneath, she wore a white button down blouse. He could spy a lacy red bra through the sheer fabric, which was straining against the heave of her breasts. 

Things did not improve when the classroom door opened. Ashe was terrified of standing to greet the two teachers who arrived: Shamir, a serious, dark-haired, slim woman who pinned Ashe to his chair with just her eyes; and Ladislava, a somehow even more severe woman who looked like she’d spit on him before smiling at him. 

They took up chairs beside Judith, who’d undone a couple of the buttons on her blouse. “I was telling Ashe here what good students his siblings are.”

“Diligent,” Shamir said. 

Ladislava was, surprisingly, the gentler one. “They perform well on tests.” 

“Well, I’m, I’m certainly glad to hear it,” Ashe said. 

“They deserve a reward,” Judith said. “Exemplary performance should be encouraged.”

“I’ll have to, uh, bake for them or something,” Ashe said.

“You deserve a reward as well,” Judith said. 

“Me?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure they’re following your good example. That deserves some recognition, doesn’t it?”

Judith leaned forward again. This time, instead of merely leaving her hand on Ashe’s knee, she ran it up his thigh. Her breasts were threatening to fall right out of that loosened blouse. Ashe couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“We were talking,” Judith said. “Me and the other teachers. We want to encourage parents to keep up the good work, you know? We had some ideas about how we might do that.”

“I-ideas?”

Ashe startled when he felt someone come up behind him, getting her hands in his hair, dragging her nails over his scalp, sending tingles down his spine. 

“Ideas,” Shamir said. She was at his side now, pulling on the tie at his neck, tugging it loose. It looked more like a weapon than a fashion accessory when she ran it through her hands. 

Meanwhile, Judith’s hand crept up his thigh. She braced her free hand on his other leg, leaning so close he could feel her hot breath against his face. “Would you like us to reward you, Mr. Ubert?”

Ashe’s mouth flapped, useless. But his body was answering for him, and in a way Judith had certainly noticed. 

Shamir drew close, kissing up his neck. Ashe tilted his head back, sighing as Ladislava kept stroking through his hair. He heard Judith kneel on the floor, her hands running up toward his crotch. When she rubbed over his jeans, he gasped, eyes flying open.

“I-I haven’t actually,” he stuttered. “I mean, I’ve never … I’ve never.”

All three women froze. Judith blinked at him. “You’ve _never_?”

He shook his head, face ablaze. 

“How?” 

“I just … I just didn’t really have time.”

Judith’s shock warped into a wicked smile. “Oh, Mr. Ubert, we are going to teach you a thing or three tonight.” 

“You can call me A-”

He never got to finish his sentence. Judith’s hand went right back to his crotch, rubbing over the erection tenting his jeans. Ladislava laced her fingers through his hair, tugging harder this time, urging his head back. The moment his neck was exposed Shamir was on it, sucking marks into his skin between the freckles splashed down his throat. 

They all left him at once. Ashe shivered in the sudden absence of hands and mouths. As he watched, Judith strode to her desk, sweeping everything off it. 

Even as she returned to Ashe, offering him a hand, he saw Shamir and Ladislava start to shed their clothing. Ladislava threw aside her shirt, revealing a strappy black bra. Shamir dove for it, kissing along her breasts even as she slipped the straps off Ladislava’s shoulders.

Judith waved her hand in Ashe’s face. 

“Well,” she said, “are you joining us?”

He didn’t hesitate another instant before taking that hand, letting her pull him up out of the chair. Awkward as it was walking to the desk with his erection so horribly visible against his pants, the momentum of the moment felt inevitable. 

Judith shoved him onto her desk. Ashe found himself lying back on it, propped up on his arms. 

That’s where Judith left him for the moment, joining her companions. Quickly, they were all shirtless. Shamir apparently didn’t bother with a bra. Ashe gaped at her exposed tits, small and perky and firm. Judith and Ladislava each got one in a hand, massaging them before licking and sucking at the nipples. 

Their mouths came away with wet pops. All three women were grinning as they approached Ashe on the desk.

It was Shamir who kissed Ashe, pressing her lips so firmly against his he felt pinned to the desk. He’d kissed before – he wasn’t so pitiful that he hadn’t done at least that much – but this kiss was something entirely different. Hungry, ravenous, threatening to consume him. He heard himself whimper against her mouth, felt her lips curl into a smile in response. 

She broke away abruptly, getting his arms above his head before he even really knew what was happening. He’d forgotten all about his tie, but now it was being wrapped around his wrists, binding them together. 

“Stay just like that for us, won’t you?” Shamir said. 

All Ashe could do was nod.

He was still dazed when he felt Judith and Ladislava undo the buttons and zipper on his jeans and pull them down. His erection felt even more embarrassing covered only by boxers, but all three women eyed it with greed.

“It should be yours,” Ladislava said. 

“Are you sure?” Judith said.

“Oh yes,” Ladislava said. She shot a glance at Shamir. “I will be quite fine.” 

She swayed up to Shamir, kissing down the other woman’s neck before returning to her breasts.

Ashe only got to watch for an instant before he heard Judith crawl onto the desk. She perched over him, rubbing him over his boxers. He was so hard he felt like he might shatter at her touch. Judith pushed his shirt up, kissing along his exposed torso.

“Mmm, they do go all the way down,” Judith said as she sucked at his freckles. “I wondered since the day I first saw you, Mr. Ubert.” 

He could do little but pant in response. Her breasts brushed over his cock as she worked along his torso. Even that light touch had him leaking into his boxers. 

He heard a shout beside him, a high pitched yelp. Ashe saw Ladislava standing up, completely naked now and wiping at the back of her mouth. Shamir, also nude, grabbed her when she stood, kissing her hard. 

“I think it’s your turn,” Shamir said.

“You’re right,” Ladislava said. “Make some space, Judith.” 

Judith seemed happy to oblige, shimmying lower down Ashe’s body. When she did, Ladislava climbed onto the desk, positioning her pussy right over Ashe’s face. 

Ashe needed no encouragement. Even inexperienced, he flicked his tongue out, eager for a taste of the woman over him. 

She was sharp and musty, but there was something sweet beneath it. He lapped at her, unable to use his bound hands to help. 

Shamir solved his predicament. Ladislava moaned when Shamir added her fingers, helping Ashe’s tongue get deeper between Ladislava’s folds. 

He gasped around the pussy against his mouth when he felt Judith yank his boxers down, freeing his dripping cock. A groan quickly followed as Judith started pumping him. She must have heard the distress in his moans because she stopped quickly, leaving him aching. 

It only lasted a moment. Then Ashe felt warmth descend on him, hot and slick all around him. 

He lost track of Ladislava, whimpering at the sensation of Judith sitting on him. It was so much better than he’d imagined, so much better than his own hand used hastily right before falling asleep after yet another long, exhausting day. 

Judith started to rock, dragging her cunt up and down his length in an agonizingly slow motion. He felt like he was gasping, short of breath, but he did his best to resume licking at Ladislava’s sweet pussy. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Ladislava rasped somewhere over him.

“You’re doing so well,” Shamir added, her fingers still guiding both of them. 

Ashe reapplied himself, determined not to let Ladislava down, no matter what Judith might do to him. But it was so difficult with his hands tied and trapped overhead. Somehow, the added challenge only made him want to work harder.

Judith started to grind down onto him, swaying her hips in a rolling motion that seemed to take Ashe deeper and deeper every time. He felt lost within her, surrounded on all sides by the heady warmth of the three women seemingly set on destroying him. 

Judith pressed her hands on his torso, using the leverage to rock down harder against him. He heard the slap of her ass as she rode him, felt her skin smacking his with each trip down. It was so vigorous he was afraid she’d snap his cock on her next thrust, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he whined around the pussy against his lips. 

Ladislava was swaying over his mouth, moving her hips into Shamir’s hand. Ashe hardly felt he was doing anything more than enjoying the evidence of her pleasure slicking up his lips, but he kept licking anyway, hungry for more. 

“Fuck,” Judith rasped. 

He felt her pussy clench around him like a warm, wet hand suddenly gripping him tight. 

Perhaps that’s what did it. Perhaps that’s what sent that wave crashing over him so abruptly and shockingly. 

Whatever it was, Ashe couldn’t stop it. He let out a cry as his body seized, hips arching up as he spilled inside Judith. 

But she didn’t stop.

She didn’t even slow down. 

Judith ground against his aching cock as it sputtered, spending itself inside her. Ashe was still seeing stars as Judith went on riding him. It almost became painful as she kept going, rocking on top of him, taking her pleasure from him. 

Even so, he couldn’t find space to complain. Especially not with Ladislava still sitting on his face. 

Shamir had a finger inside the other woman and was pounding it into her. Ladislava grabbed at Shamir, steadying herself as she cried out, wetness spilling out of her. Ashe felt it squirt onto his face. Ladislava’s thighs quivered around him as the orgasm rocked through her. 

Even after Shamir helped Ladislava off him, Judith kept going.

It was definitely getting painful now, but with Ladislava gone, Ashe could see Judith rubbing at her pussy and grabbing one tit as she rocked. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head thrown back. Her pussy clenched tighter and tighter around him, squeezing to get every last drop out of him before she finally broke. He felt helpless beneath her, fucked stupid, mouth hanging open as he watched her use him.

He felt her body release at last, tension spilling out of her in a warm gush. She cried soundlessly at the ceiling of her classroom, frozen over him for a moment before she relaxed. 

Ashe felt Shamir take the tie off his wrists, but he didn’t move, not even when Judith climbed off his cock and all three women leaned against the desk catching their breath. 

Ashe felt like a gibbering mess. His wrists were sore. His face was soaked with a mix of fluids. His cock felt like it might never get hard again, drained utterly. 

They let him lay like that for a few minutes, let his body cool. Ashe didn’t even realize his eyes had drooped shut until he felt someone brushing sweaty hair off his forehead. 

“How was it?” Judith said. 

Ashe just nodded. The capacity for words had not yet returned.

He heard her laugh above him. “Well, I’d give it about a B. What do you think?”

“B-,” Shamir said.

“B+,” Ladislava said.

“Hm,” Judith said. “Well, Mr. Ubert, it seems we’ll need talk about bringing up your grades in the future. I think we can get you to straight As in no time. You seem like a very diligent student.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


End file.
